“Gold, huh…”
Orson instinctively clutched his coin pouch. He had plenty of valuable items—rare materials, divine items, even sacred relics. But selling those to the auction house? That would be like stripping himself down just to fatten others. Absolutely not worth it.
“I know the guild’s funds are tight, so let’s start small. Four to five million gold should barely cover it. But if there’s a surplus—hey, seven or eight million wouldn’t hurt.”
Nightshade made it sound so casual, so innocent.
“Wouldn’t hurt?! You’re out of your damn mind!”
Orson shot up and smacked him across the head.
That kind of money? Even the top guilds in the world would feel the burn. This idiot clearly had no concept of financial limits. Did he think Orson was the kingdom’s central bank?
“Is that a lot? I thought it wasn’t…” Nightshade muttered, holding his forehead and looking like a confused puppy.
The reality was: constructing obsidian walls capable of dampening magical damage required absurd amounts of materials. Activating the blackstone obelisks cost a fortune in high-purity mana crystals.
Worse still, other guilds were rushing to build defensive structures, inflating prices at the Imperial Auction House. Their aggressive resource gathering was backfiring—supply couldn’t keep up.
Even Dr. Jordan had resorted to raiding NPC towns for resources.
And buying from NPC black markets? That’d burn through a few million gold like it was pocket change.
“So what you’re saying is… these blackstone obelisks are just for show right now?”
Orson narrowed his eyes.
“We’ve built 44 so far—half of them are currently inactive.”
Nightshade shoved the guild’s defense panel in front of his face.
“My goal is 77 total. Once that’s done, we’ll unlock Platinum-tier Defense Rating and be able to construct a Moonstone Obelisk—the core of a moonstone formation!”
Orson’s eyes focused on the screen.
It showed a crescent-shaped floating fortress, no bigger than a standard obelisk but glowing orange, its surface etched with intricate magical seals.
The Moonstone Obelisk boasted several times the firepower of a blackstone version. Positioned at the center of the array, it would boost the attack rate and damage of surrounding obelisks. Any enemy entering the formation would be hit with anti-air effects, slow debuffs, and Forbidden Magic locks.
A perfect fusion of offense, defense, and magic control.
He’d seen this setup once before—in the hands of Dragon’s Kiss Guild, during the post-merger wars. It had left a lasting impression.
Back then, though, they didn’t have the Madman.
They didn’t have the Goblin Engineers.
Without them, any other guild trying to build the moonstone array would spend exponentially more gold and materials than Godslayer Guild.
Orson looked up at the surrounding obelisks. The array formed a faint V-shaped perimeter, with Forever City nestled deep inside.
But it was clear—after the latest city expansion, there were simply not enough obelisks to fully cover the new perimeter.
“Give me a number.”
Orson took a deep breath. This maniacal goblin enthusiast was going to bankrupt him.
“Not 998! Just seven million gold! Trust me, I’ll make it work!”
Nightshade thumped his chest, eyes sparkling.
“Let me… think about it,” Orson muttered, rubbing his temples.
He was the Sect Leader of Chaos, and somehow found himself buried in debt. He’d planned to scrimp and save, build up Chaos Temples, start farming Faith Points…
But no—his gold disappeared faster than rain in a desert.
“How many of the Type-3 Mechs are online now? What’s the unit cost?”
“Thirty so far,” Nightshade replied, counting on his fingers.
“There are a few more in the fortress hangar. Factoring in the custom gear, and assuming Veijander gives us a discount… around 200,000 gold per unit.”
“Split off some goblin engineers. Build more. I want one hundred mechs ready—and make as many of those mana grenades as possible.”
“Heh… heh…”
Nightshade grinned and rubbed his fingers together.
“Take this,” Orson sighed, pulling out a thin golden sheet the size of a palm.
It shimmered like spun silk, engraved with imperial script and signed with the Light Dragon Emperor’s seal—one of the rarest and most powerful economic items in the game.
Item: Universal Gold Token
Holder: Orgod
Rarity: Rare
Effect: Issued by the Light Dragon Empire Treasury. Redeemable for 5 million gold. May overdraft up to 10 million with no interest.
Note: Gold must be repaid within 3 months. Failure results in punishment—loss of loot, quest, and combat rewards during debt.
“I’ve done the math… we’re still short,” Nightshade chuckled nervously.
“Goddammit. I’ll sell some stuff.”
Orson was finally losing it.
The Archangel was leading an imperial war campaign against them. If they lost, everyone in the guild would go down with him.
And he still hadn’t paid back his debt to Mr. Carter.
He had no choice.
A district-wide megaphone blared across the server:
Anonymous: “I’m the Lord of Forever City. Hundreds of prime shopfronts available. Inquire within for pricing.”
The server erupted in laughter.
“LMAO, is this guy serious? The Empire’s about to wipe him off the map and he’s selling real estate?”
“He’s just trying to milk players one last time before he gets rolled.”
“Buddy, why not sell the whole city to Usher? At least he has the muscle to protect it!”
“This clown actually thought he could fight an empire? Lmao.”
They didn’t hold back.
In the eyes of most players, Forever City was a shiny monument to delusion. No matter how grand it looked, it was destined to be crushed by the unstoppable might of the Light Dragon Empire.
After all, it didn’t matter how beautiful a fortress was—if a single high-tier Dragon Knight could level your city, it was game over.
Let alone an entire army of kings and demigods.
Orson ignored the noise.
He posted another message, this time in gold text:
Anonymous: “Now selling Legendary to Forbidden-tier gear (Lv. 40–100).”
Anonymous: “Items include: Elphys’s Golden Longbow, Gauntlets of the First Imperial Sword Saint, Boots of the Violet Dragon’s Howl, Dagger of Greed – Thief Saint Che Guevara…”
Bonus: “Buy a shop, get 50% off one top-tier item.”
“What the hell?! Forbidden weapons?! Level 70+ Legendary sets?!”
“Is this guy nuts?! I swear he looted the imperial treasury!”
“Five-zero percent off?! You serious? Even at a discount, those things are worth millions!”
Orson followed up with a calm reply:
Orgod: “Buy a mid-tier shop, get a level 70+ legendary item. Buy a top-tier shop, get a Forbidden-tier item—including weapons.”
The world went silent.
He wasn’t bluffing.
People did the math. A Forbidden-tier weapon alone could cost hundreds of thousands—if not millions.
And he was throwing them in as a bonus?
Now the real question became:
Who had the guts to buy?